Classic Poem

What darksome Gloom o'recasts my Mind,
And swells within my Breast?
So vast, it scorns to be confin'd,
Or by dull Rules supprest.
Each Morn I seek some lonely Glade,
Each Night I court the welcome Shade,
Sad Visions terrify my Soul,
And quiet Rest deny;
Distracting Fears my Thoughts controul,
Alas! I know not why.
Sure, they my own approaching Death portend,
Or wound me thro' some Sympathetick Friend.
What e'er it be! they're Notices divine,
And pointed Fate, does in these Omens shine.